10 Trials: Kaito
by hattergems
Summary: “There’s no knowing what will happen —” Jii’s tone didn’t do anything but draw a bright chortle from Kaito. “There’s never any knowing what will happen at Kid heists, Jii-chan!” “... I am sure that only applies to the audience, young master."
1. illusions

This has the potential to become a fic, once I pen the plan.

**Disclaimer:** Detective Conan, Magic Kaito. Gosho Aoyama pwnz dem.

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**-10 Trials: Kaito-**

hattergems

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He slowly untangled his long fingers from her silky hair and tasted her one last time before he pulled away from their deep kiss. A shiver of confusion ran down her body at his retreat.

"Kaito?"

He opened his eyes with a smile and drew closer again, this time to whisper in her ear—a little out of breath, but smiling, smiling all the same.

"I don't love you, Aoko."

Stunned, she staggered backwards as if he had reached out and struck her. What? _What?_ The cold smile curling his lips didn't as much as twitch. Her eyes widened, and in the back of her mind she felt the world drop, shatter, swirl onto itself—and she found she just couldn't breathe anymore. H-he wasn't joking, no, no he really wasn't. Oh no, no. Her heart clenched and unclenched hard as she took another stumbling step away from the sickening wrongness that was him. She didn't—didn't know this person; this was not him, not her Kaito. Her blood pounded in her ears—she was deaf to everything but the cool words he had just uttered. Words no one would ever think him of saying.

But there they were, still hanging in the air between them, making her edge away more and more from him in confusion as she understood them.

_... I don't love you, Aoko ..._

No, one more look, she needed just one more, because there was no way he could've meant what he said, because she didn't believe it, because—

She looked and saw.

—Blue-violet eyes and a smile bleeding spiteful laughter.

Sharp, _sharp_ breathless anguish and revulsion coursed through her and suddenly she couldn't stand the sight of his familiar face any longer. She turned fast and ran, tears streaming, his words shredding her apart from the inside like poisoned blades.

As he watched her go, he leaned against the wall nonchalantly. He pulled out a deck of cards and fanned them out to study, as if all thoughts of Aoko had left his mind as soon as she had fled from his sight. His smile never wavered.

With him, illusions were all that ever were.

He thumbed the ace of spades wistfully.

She really should have known.

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**Prompt:** #8. Heartless

_*comes up for air* Okay, now that's over …_

— _hatter/gems_

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	2. bullet

Releasing pent-up angst. Stay out of the way if you value your happiness.

**Disclaimer:** Detective Conan, Magic Kaito. Gosho Aoyama pwnz dem.

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**-10 Trials: Kaito-**

hattergems

&

Only one door – the one he had come in through. Floor? Four by five metres, wood panelling, over six-metre deep concrete, no trapdoors. Ceiling – steel, no service holes and above it was at least twenty-five metres of limestone between him and the night outside. God. Over his head, the sound of a hundred booted feet down the stairwell was deafening, coming closer – relentlessly closer – to the abandoned office.

Snake had brought quite a few friends to join the party.

Unexpectedly, a sharp smirk quirked his lips – he just couldn't stop himself: they had the fucking _Kaitou Kid_ cornered. Beautiful. So, this was how it was going to be: he was going down, disguised – no – _dressed_ in their combat gear as one of _them_, wearing one of _their_ dog tags, gripping one of _their_ guns in his hands – but then his father hadn't died in Phantom Thief regalia, so there was no real reason why he should. Unlike his father's death though, his own would mean the unmasking of the elusive Kaitou Kid at last. Oh and _Aoko_! Kaito slammed an open palm into the wall, gritting his teeth angrily.

... Ah, the footsteps had stopped. Had the troops given up? – No. They were right outside the door. Hm, one hundred armed black-clad operatives trying to fit into a four- by five-metre office, how would that work? His rambling musings shattered as the door snapped off its hinges.

Everything after that happened to the count of a distorted too-fast clock. _Unreal_.

A stun grenade was thrown in through the doorway and Kaito caught it in his left hand. Then threw it right back over the operative blocking the passage, and shot him fluidly in the head with his right. (_OHGODNO_ –) Impulse had made the decision for him. The operative slumped forwards uncomplainingly as Kaito squeezed his eyes shut, moments before the grenade detonated.

Like black roses blown over by a gust of wind, the troops outside fell backwards. The blinding shockwave rippled through them, a lethal splash of light.

Kaito hesitated, shaking ever so slightly, then dropped his handgun to the floor with a dead _clunk_. (_Do you see? Do you see what you've just done?_) He was just hollow, _frozen_ inside, unable to completely process what had just happened. Mindlessly, he strode up to the dead man's body and, with quick but fumbling fingers, ripped off the dog tags from around the neck of the soldier before getting back into the horrific fray.

The grenade-blinded operatives were pushed forwards in the struggle to get through the door. But when the troops who could still see arrived in the office, it was empty. Kaito had slipped outside among the others.

It was only a moment before a commando noticed that a man dressed like one of his colleagues was pushing in the opposite direction to the rest of them. He opened fire. By the time the soldier's finger had hit the trigger, Kaito was no longer in front of him. Instead, four other commandos were shot in the back. One was protected by armour, and he turned around, searching for the source of the attack.

"About face," he roared, seeing Kaito vanish into the crowd. He pulled the trigger and sent a hail of bullets after Kaito. Two soldiers were hit in the legs, and they went down firing. Confusion and fear took over as those who had been blinded or disorientated by the flash started firing too, and soon the air was shredded by gunfire.

Kaito gasped as a few rounds pierced his left thigh. He thrashed his way out of the line of fire, but his movement caught the eye of a commando in front of him, who suddenly levelled his gun. Kaito grabbed the man's calves and held them together with his arms. The black-clad operative lost his balance as sparks flew off the body armour of soldiers above Kaito's head. By the time he had hit the floor, the commando was already dead, shot by his comrades. Kaito found himself standing in front of another soldier, who learned from the mistake of the previous one and scurried out of Kaito's way like a cockroach caught in the light, as the bullets of his colleagues sliced the air around him.

&

"What the bloody _hell_ is this, Kid," Saguru Hakuba breathed shakily. His knuckles were marble-white as he clutched the computer console. The 1412 Taskforce had been tracking Kid with the tracer gel that the gem had coated with, but the thief's movements had been too quick for the police to follow every step of the way, so they had been planning to intercept him. Tapping into one of the cameras where the jewel and most probably where Kid was, the British detective saw a raging nightmare.

"Get all the squads in the district into the Fukada Complex _immediately_!" Nakamori bellowed in fiercely heart-wrenching panic. "_I will not let Kid die._"

"Too late for that, keibu," the blond whispered as the on-screen gunfire continued to tear through the black-uniformed crowd, the sound warping through the speakers. Everyone just seemed to be _falling over_; no one was getting up again. Saguru's hand came down in a trembling fist.

"_Kuroba_."

&

Saguru had wandered into a long hallway. The only sound was of neon bulbs humming softly and indifferently. The pale light wreathed heavy shadows everywhere. The police were in the other section of the building now – they had long since seen the massacre aftermath downstairs.

"Kid," the blond hissed viciously to himself. "Even dead, you still have to _be somewhere_, you understand?"

&

When the detective finally found him, he had five bullets in his body, a shattered femur and a pair of dog tags around his neck. And he was _breathing_.

One word: miracle.

"_Ki – No –_ Kuroba_. Not Kid, not Kid … Damn, you cheated in our game …"_

Satoru Iwata. That was what the dog tag said.

"_I'll call baaya to get some transport organized. You're going to be fine."_

He kept seeing the bullet, his bullet, disappearing into Iwata's face over and over again. His imagination worked like a slow-motion x-ray – he could see the fatal, perfect shot breaking Iwata's nose, cracking a hole in his skull, and finally separating his spine from his brain.

Kid never killed, and Hakuba said he wasn't Kid. Kid – no, _Dad_ – would never do such a thing.

Kaito Kuroba was the one that killed.

"_Kuroba, can you open your eyes? Kuroba?"_

Inside he was pulling that trigger repeatedly, like a psychopath, with each shot striking him like an accusation.

_Murderer. Murderer. Murderer._

He just couldn't stop.

&

_Satoru Iwata: caught in the firing line of his own squadron._

Kaito Kuroba crumpled the file and sank to his knees.

&

**Prompt:** #6. Never.

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	3. kids

"_Ran tops Shinichi. Kazuha more than likely would top Heiji, and Aoko tops Kaito. Gosho boys: the least seme boys in all manga/anime."_ —starsandauras, quote taken from an LJ thread

This chapter is finally fluff, if you've survive this far. Gr, happy now? *tries to brush the cottony goodness off* Geddit off me! Ah, but it's not written by gems unless it has some nice _torture_, is it? Yes, moo ha ha.

**Disclaimer:** Detective Conan, Magic Kaito. Gosho Aoyama pwnz dem.

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**-10 Trials: Kaito-**

hattergems

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He didn't want to do this.

"Hn, Kaito?" Aoko mumbled blearily, nasally, rising a little from her pillow. "Where're you goin'?"

He had already made up his mind—_I need to go for a little, Aoko. I'll be back soon_—"I'm ..." He couldn't get the words out.

_Aoko, I need to leave you to run a high fever by yourself because I'm busy off playing Kid. Your father and everyone else have left you too. There's no one here anymore, Aoko. Kid has taken them all from you._ I_have taken them all from you._

"Kaito?" she managed before her body shook with dry hacking coughs. She sank back down, closing her eyes tiredly, spent.

"Aoko, I ..." He clasped his hands together—what do you think you're doing? You had a heist remember? That was what the sleep deprivation was all about! Get _moving!_—and spun back to her. "I'm going to take your temperature again."

Aoko glared at him. Being ill always threw her into the most terrible moods and reduced her to childish displays. Not that it didn't do the same to him. The problem was they were childish enough in the _first_place for this to be a thing of great alarm.

"Could've just said so," she sniffled, voice rasping. He pouted in sympathy for her sorry plight and set about with the thermometer, sticking it in her mouth. She looked at him grumpily as they waited for the reading, and he her—but not at all grumpily, as was his manner. Blue staring into blue, the two friends watched each other, more comfortably than they would have any other day, both quietly lost in their own swirling thoughts.

The insistent beeping of the thermometer came before they expected, making them blink.

"38.4," Kaito announced before setting the little device down beside her lamp. "No worse, but then no better. How are you feeling?"

"Hot," Aoko said flatly. She had long thrown off her sheets and was in summer pyjamas. Her face was flushed pink and her eyes were an annoyed sapphire. Hm, she could pull off any look anywhere anyhow, it seemed, Kaito thought wryly, smirking. Aw, she looked so _pwecious_! He had seen Aoko flicking through glossy magazines with models trying to execute that very look, layered in powders and products, but here she was, not wearing any makeup—she never had, and he doubted she would ever need to—gazing up at him, and making him want to just reach out and _take her_. Aoko's loving heart cast an beautiful aura about her that he knew no superficial paint could match or conceal—

—_A heart he had no business thinking about._ The magician swallowed hard and his gaze flicked from Aoko to the little alarm clock on her bedside table. He had twenty minutes before the heist was officially off. Kaito held out a glass of water for her.

"Drink."

"I _know_ how it goes, Kaito," she responded irritably.

"You're absolutely no fun when you're sick, Aoko. I mean, you can't even do a _mop-chase_ and that's the only time you're _any_ fun."

His classmate snatched the cup petulantly. She continued to watch him after he had settle back into the chair he had taken from her study desk.

"What?" Kaito asked shortly, attention again distracted by the clock. Nineteen minutes. He was going to be hard-pressed getting to the heist location on time if he didn't leave soon, not to mention all the pre-heist preparations he had just forsaken—no, he couldn't think that. He should just call it off and stop fretting. It wasn't like this would be the first time he abandoned a heist ... But what if ...? Yes, a few minor—okay, _major_—tweaks here and there, just maybe ... Hm, bad idea, but Kid was not adverse to many ideas—probably the _only_ reason they managed to work. Heh.

"Oi, Aoko, have I got something on my face?"

"Your hands are freezing," she stated, frowning, taking another sip of water.

Huh, was that all. Silly girl; she was in no state to worry about anyone but herself. He gave her a sardonic look. "I was right next to you when we were running through the rain, if you've forgotten." In a mutter, he added traitorously, "Playing nurse was not exactly what I had in mind when I agreed to come over and do homework with you." And it was true. She had flustered him _bad_, passing out like she had, Poker Face a lost concept until he had her safely tucked in bed.

Aoko glared at him then gave up, almost dropping her glass on the table. "Stuff you," she grumbled, blocked nose in her voice as she fell back into bed.

"Love you too," Kaito retorted lightly. Just as he was reaching for the empty jug, his cell phone came to life. Jii. Okay, how was this going to work? "One sec." Kaito stalked out of Aoko's bedroom and earshot, heading to the kitchen to refill the carafe of water. At his ear were anxious greetings of _botchama_.

"Jii-chan, I need you get over here to Aoko's and swap places with me. Quickly. She's sick and I can't to leave her by herself. Meanwhile, I'm going to see if I can pull off this performance by myself."

"_...T-that's completely derailing from what we planned, young master!"_

"I've been getting bored lately with how meticulously the heists are planned," Kaito admitted. At the word 'bored', Jii felt that backing down would be prudent, but the assistant didn't like the idea of his charge tackling a heist on his own. Jii had felt it was for the best to insert himself as much into the heists as he could, ever since Kaito had let slip about snipers going for Kid. And that could not possibly be called overprotective. It didn't matter how many bullets the boy had dodged and survived—it only took one to kill. "_Art_ is not thought out to every last detail before it is attempted. If it was, I swear I'll take up a job as a detective."

An exasperated sigh. _"But you cannot do this alone; you cannot be in two places at once."_

"Oh?" Kaito sounded contemplative. "Well, if not, then I can damn well try."

"_Young master,"_the magician's aide said sternly as he could. The boy got his own way much too often. _"There's no knowing what will happen—"_

Jii's tone didn't do anything but draw a bright chortle from Kaito. "There's _never_ any knowing what will happen at Kid heists, Jii-chan," the young thief chimed.

"_I am sure that only applies to the audience, young master ..."_

&

"Evening, officers!" With those words, insanity was unleashed.

Polystyrene. Toothpicks. An unidentified slimy substance that no one particularly _wanted_ identified. And Kaitou Kid.

Means _run_.

Preferably the other way.

"Kid," Nakamori spluttered. "You _motherf_—y-y-YEUCH!" This time it was a _bucket-load_ of that weird gunky stuff. The Inspector didn't really want to say what colour it was. He shuddered as he chased the magician-thief, leaving his colleagues behind in the glop pit for the moment. He had a world-class criminal to catch. Nakamori could feel the handcuffs burn a hole in his pocket. Metaphorically. Hopefully. The Inspector checked the cuffs and his pocket discreetly anyway.

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Kid was not liking the way tonight's gem was pulsing in and out of focus in the half-light. He knew this was his adrenaline rush slinking away, letting the strain of ninety-minutes spent juggling tasks originally intended to be shared between two people and escaping some rather dogged police officers, seep through. At least he now knew that his improvisation skills were still unspoilt, in spite of Jii's pampering and mollycodd—Kid squeezed his eyes shut suddenly, the heel of his hand to his temple. Oh, head, head, hurting, in pain, ow—felt like something was pressing on the back of his skull, _hard_ and the kaitou was suddenly paranoid there might be someone around because he couldn't hear a thing _but the blood surging through his head_ and alright, now _breathe_.

The shooting pain gradually subsided to a dull throb and Kid slowly opened his eyes again. Okay, Jii, yes, yes, he was going to rest, _geez!_

As an afterthought, he really shouldn't have stopped moving—from experience, it was always difficult to get started again and rooftops were _chilly_ when your heart isn't pumping furiously in intoxicating thrill. However, he had a little appointment to keep.

Three.

Two.

One—

"Kid, stay where you are!" Nakamori's voice boomed. The Inspector was alone, Kid noted drolly before turning away from the overcast Tokyo night sky. That meant he was going to have one hell of a blast when he got his sticky little hands on tonight's heist footage. That trick was _epic_.

"Nakamori-keibu," the thief began, but then he saw Nakamori ... gods, what had he _done_ to the poor man. Kid let his leer grow more pronounced as he made the night's prize vanish with a flick of his wrist. Same as ever, the Inspector was not amused. "I believe there is a jewel more precious that is in greater need of your care and attention closer to home. Your _Blue Child_ is particularly blue today."

"Eh?" Nakamori blinked. "Aoko?"

"Well, I'll be seeing you, Inspector. And, oh, about your suit—just put it in the wash, it'll come out clean ... eventually."

"Oi, Kid, get back here ...! Bloody ... _argh!_ That damn thief's been stalking Aoko ..."

Aoko. I definitely can't be home before midnight, hope she'll be alright, he thought regretfully as he radioed and set the police helicopters—the ones that still functioned—on the hang-gliding thief.

... How was he never at her side when things _happened_? How much of her life had he _missed,_ goddammit? For the remainder of the chase, the Inspector's attention was divided like rarely ever before.

He was going to make it up to Aoko soon, the keibu vowed. But his chasing Kid made her happy, right?

&

The world was a spinning haze, everything distorted like she was seeing from within a washing machine set on the quick cycle in hell. It was disorientating, not understanding what was going on, not knowing when it would end, only knowing that you were horribly hot and sticky and achy.

"Kaito," she croaked. Could've sworn a concerned Jii was there just a second ago, but there was no mistaking those intent indigo eyes. Mmm, those eyes hadn't changed at all. Images of blossoming roses and grand clock towers and pink smoke clouds rose from her subconscious. So pretty. The pictures grew clearer and stronger as the smoke parted to expose those same purple-tinged eyes, but this time monocled and shadowed by the brim of a top hat. Same eyes, she had seen the same eyes at Kid heists. Roses and clock towers and pink smoke and Kaito and Kid danced in a kaleidoscope of colours and emotions within her.

_Kaito. Kid. Kaito. Kid—_ "Kaito?"

A cool dry hand brushed her damp hair out of her face, calming her roiling fevered thoughts to mere tea dregs swilling weakly at the bottom of a cup. "I'm here," Kaito assuaged firmly, quietly, anchoring her rotating universe.

"Don't leave again," she whispered and the wet cloth wiping down her forehead froze with a sharp intake of breath. She hadn't been so out of it to not have noticed he had disappeared for a while. But did she remember there had been a heist? He wondered if she would add two and two together. If yes, then whoashit for him and his health.

"Aoko, I'm sorry ..."

"S'okay, Kaito," she murmured before her eyes slipped shut. It was all okay now.

&

Nakamori couldn't say he had ever caught the boy sleeping. Right now the kid was looking much more awake than anyone had the right to at two-thirty in the morning after a long school day and the Inspector knew first-hand that it was no laughing matter looking after a sniffling and miserable Aoko.

"Keibu, Aoko's—"

"I know," Nakamori growled tetchily, more than slightly irritated that everyone—including one international_criminal_—all somehow knew that his daughter wasn't well.

Kaito blinked owlishly at the Inspector's gruff interruption before reeling off Aoko's condition, making to get out from behind the coffee table. And managing only with an uncharacteristic stumble, muttering something sheepishly for it.

"Kaito-kun?" Nakamori said worriedly. He had seen this boy perform acrobatics that would leave the Japanese Olympic team speechless. Any display of gaucherie was out of place where Kaito was involved. Even when he was just starting to grow, his movements still stayed fluid, born of years of hard practise and diligent training. "Maybe you should rest, let me take care of Aoko. You know where the futon is ..."

"Thank you, keibu, but just let me check up on Aoko one more time." At this point, the wild-haired teen flashed Nakamori a worn-out grin that revealed he was nowhere near as alert as he made out and it was only then did the Inspector fully realise just how much this intelligent boy cared for his daughter. Nakamori looked thoughtfully at the kid—now young man—that could have well been his son, and soon actually might be legally.

Aoko's good taste left him with no objections.

... _But_ he was probably entitled to some resentment. Only natural.

&

Head _pounding_. Eyes refusing to just _stay open_. Jii's words from before were beginning to sound oddly scolding ...

Kaito had changed out of his school uniform after the heist and was now in casual slacks and a sweater. He wished he had put on a few more layers though—he couldn't stop shivering. Eating something might have fixed that—Jii had made some soup for Aoko before Kaito had shooed him off and had told his young master to have some too—but the magician had no appetite, even after such a full out heist. He only wanted to sink to the floor and _sleep_.

"Tou-san ..." Aoko breathed, sounding so much like the soft cooing of his doves. "D'you catch Kid?"

"I will, Aoko," the Inspector promised, taking the thermometer from her mouth. "39.1."

"She hasn't improved—" Kaito dropped his head into his hands suddenly, sneezing. His lean frame was trembling.

Nakamori turned away from his daughter to look at the magician, brow furrowed. Dully, he said, "Aoko's gotten you sick as well."

"I'm fine, keibu," Kaito laughed, recovering to smirk—too much like himself to be unwell. "Aoko was the one that fainted attempting Physics page three."

"Tou-san, really, don't worry about him," the brunette sang sweetly, sadistically, the flu having lent her an antagonistic streak. A sick Aoko was an Aoko on the warpath, more than she was usually. Sometimes fever made that warpath a _little_ crooked but her subconscious kept things interesting. "Leave him be. The way he's been going the last few hours, he'll keel over any moment now."

Kaito's eyes widened at her last comment. The magician was blanching and looking ready to have a heart attack, but smiled nervously all the same. There was no way she knew what she was saying. If she did, he'd be a bloodied corpse in the corner by now. However that didn't stop him stuttering. "L-last few hours? What do you mean, Aoko? I haven't been doing anything—"

She tittered as he gaped.

"What's this, Aoko?" the Inspector asked suspiciously.

Kaito quickly pushed in between the Nakamoris. "She doesn't mean anything, keibu! She's been delirious most of the night anyway."

Aoko scowled at Kaito and he grinned cheesily. Nakamori gave up. There was no making sense of these two, especially when they were bent on acting like their seven-year old selves.

&

Kaito had left to fix his futon up for the night and both Nakamoris were still in Aoko's room when they heard a dull thud and a sharper noise of something fragile shattering. The Inspector was out of the door in a flash, shouting the name of a not-invincible magician. Aoko, however, kept her glazed eyes on the doorway her father had disappeared out of.

"Told you so, Kaito," she mumbled, taking a drink from her glass of water. In a louder but slurred voice, she wailed, "I may be delirious, but I know you left me for Kid!" She promptly dissolved into a coughing fit.

"Hey, _what?!_" Kaito squawked from the room across the hall, high and strangled, not in the least exhausted, not anymore.

Oh god, oh god, ohgodohgodohgod…

"Kaito-kun, lay back down! You hit you head pretty hard—Kaito-kun, she _said_ she is delirious, don't worry about it!"

"—You _abandoned_ me. For a stupid thief!"

_...Ohgodohgodohgod..._

"—Aoko, stop winding Kaito up and Kaito—"

Oh, how fast children grew up these days.

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**Prompt:** #2. I'm here

_Just so everyone knows, __**s2lou**__ betas about all my fics, so I obviously should be getting maybe 2% credit._

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	4. feathers

I don't know, but there might be a continuation of this scene. If so, it'll have no conclusion.

**Disclaimer:** Detective Conan, Magic Kaito. Gosho Aoyama pwnz dem.

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**-10 Trials: Kaito-**

hattergems

&

She pushed him back to the ground and tore open his white suit jacket and blue silk dress shirt viciously.

"Ojou-san," Kid gasped harshly at her touch. His smooth voice was thinned by pain and shock. There was no way he took just one hit.

"Quiet," Akako snapped. Helicopter floodlights seeped through the dense shadows, past the shelter of dark green leaves that concealed them. The night was rent with the screeching wail of sirens, flashing blue and red into their hideout, coming closer every second. The police beams flared through the trees for a moment to show both her hands glistening wetly, awash with his warm dark ruby blood. Heart's blood.

"Oh, _Lucifer_."

Kid gave a breathless chuckle, making the Scarlet Witch turn to look at him sharply. The magician's top hat was lost to reveal a familiar head of wild hair, but his monocle still clung in place, dangling clover charm strewn listlessly across the cool earth. Floodlights spilled over his shady features and she saw that his eyes were closed, eyelashes strangely stark against the snowy whiteness of his cheek. No, _she would not let this be the last time she saw those beautiful indigo eyes._

Akako slapped Kid across the face soundly. "_Look at me!_" she snarled. When he obeyed, she felt her heart clench acutely. She had struck him like this once before. It was a Valentine's Day so long ago. Back then, he had only offered her an apathetic shrug. Tonight, Akako had him at last, but she could only wretchedly wish that it had been under very different circumstances as she stared desperately back, into those half-lidded pools of blue-purple.

"Well, _you_'re feisty tonight, Miss Witch," Kid murmured tiredly. The words were right, but the tone made Akako's gut twist and she dearly hoped those were not tears in her eyes.

"I told you to _shut up_, Kid!" she cried fiercely and placed her shaking hands flat on his abdomen. Eyes tightly shut, she drew every last spark of magic from deep within her body and without, not knowing or even caring how bad the consequences and the _pain_ were going to be, as long as he lived another day so she could gaze upon his white-clothed form laughing in the moonlight, bringing an earthly magic that she would never possess to everyone's hearts.

That night, she held his tousled head close and waited for the morrow to bring doves with white feathers stained deep crimson to the skies of Tokyo city.

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**Prompt:** #9. Blood

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End file.
